Making Soup
by TRAnimeGal
Summary: James is sick, so Jessie makes him soup. Team Rocket. A tame story, but stands on its own. Please review.


He didn't notice her coming, smiling, with the cup of tea nestled in her hands. He was too busy trying to keep at a consistant temperature. Hopefully he wouldn't turn to one of his sweating fits soon.

"James, here."

"Oh, heb, Jess." (His stuffed nose prevented any intelligible speech.)

"I brought you some tea." The smile was as warm as the steam that now hit his face. "Are you feeling better, James?"

He took a sip. "Ib doin oh-ke."

"That's good. You stay put and feel better, OK? I'm going to make soup for dinner."

"You cand make soup. Itdl burn or be cold."  
It was odd to see the vein in her forehead appear only momentarily. It pulsed slightly, and then disappeared inconspicously. "I'll try my best."

"Danks, Jess."

"No problem."

She made her grin glow brighter for a second, and then turned and walked back to the kitchen. She looked disapprovingly at the cat perched on the edge of the counter.

"What are you doing?"

"What are _you_ doing?" the feline responded back.

"I'm making soup."

"You couldn't make soup if all you had to do was collect it falling from the sky."

"Shut up."

"I mean, I don't even have opposible thumbs, and I can cook better."

"The soup you made was cold! Remember, on the blimp? James had to say it was 'Alaskan'."

"What a dumb excuse."

"Be quiet! He's sick."

"He wasn't sick when he said it, what does it matter?"

"Just let me make my soup."

Taking a few vegetables out of the refrigerator, she closed the door and rummaged through the kitchen for a pot. Placing the ingredients and the newly-discovered cookware on the counter, she filled the pot up with water and set it to boil on the stove.

"Do you even know how to make soup, Jessie?"

"You just cut up things and put them in the pot, right?"

"No, not quite. Empty about half the water you have, and put it back."

"OK."

"What did you just say?"

She drained the pot to half full. "I didn't say anything."

"Yeah, you did. You willingly listened to me."

"I'm trying to make soup for James. If you know how to make soup, and I don't, they why wouldn't I listen to you?"

Meowth looked at her with a squint, closely. It didn't seem like she was Jessie. He adjusted his eyesight to a normal view and proceeded with his recipe. "OK, now toss a few of the boullion cubes into the water."

"These small red cubes?"

"Yeah."

She picked one up and moved her hand towards the boiling liquid.

"Jessie!"

"Don't yell at me! What?"

"Unwrap the cube _before_ you put it in the pot."

"Oh, sorry."

Meowth sighed. After the boullion bobbed up and down in the water for a while, Jessie looked at the cat for more directions. "Now cut up the vegetables you have and put them in the pot."

"Even the tomato?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

"Tomatoes are fruit."

The feline, baffled at her unexpected knowlegde of agriculture, just blinked. "Yes, the tomato, too."

She proceeded to start. For a few minutes the only sound heard was the knife slicing through the food and the thunk against the cutting board. The sound was slowly entwined with awkward silence as the two teammates waited and waited. "Hey, Jess."

"Yes?"

"How's it going with you and James?"

"What do you mean? Everything's going fine."

He watched as she cleaned the peppers.

"Are you happy?" the cat inquired.

"Yes, I am happy."

"But are the both of you?"

She was silent. "We're both happy. As happy as we can be."

The peppers went into the pot. She started on the carrots. He watched intently.

"Are you not happy?"

"Why are you asking me this?" The agitation in her voice was unmistakable. "Why can't you let me finish the soup? Stop it."

"OK, but I'll only ask during dinner."

"Don't. You'll make James upset."

"It shouldn't be that ba..."

"Don't mention it!" She had that look in her eye. The fact that a knife was in her hand made Meowth's heart skip a beat. She finished the carrots and scraped all the vegetable pieces into the pot.

"Put in the spices."

"I don't have any."

"None? No salt or anything?"

"Don't you salt to taste?"

"Just put some in."

"Fine."

She found the salt and added a dash. "Now what?"

"Now you let it boil for a while."

"Fine."

She perched herself on the edge of the counter, next to the cat.

"So you say that you're not h..."

"Stop asking me that."

"Are you?"

"I'm trying to be, but when you ask about it, I can't be!"

"So you're not..."

"We have a goal, Meowth. James and I aren't quitters." She pursed her lips, sat very quiet for a moment. "Just because we're failures doesn't mean that we're quitters."

The small cat looked at her.

"We don't quit. We have a goal. We have a white tomorrow to reach. A pure white tomorrow."

Meowth moved an inch closer. "Let me ask another question, please."

There was no response from the silent figure sitting on the counter. The soup sat at its rolling boil, occasionally a few bubbles popping at the surface.

"Are you..."

"We're going to make it. We can reach our pure white tomorrow."

"So you're going to do it together."

"We're a team. We can reach it."

She glanced at the pot, begging for a reason to end the conversation.

"Is it time to turn off the soup, Meowth?"

"It looks done."

"Get me three bowls."

The scratch-cat obeyed, bringing a ladel along with him to the counter. Jessie dipped the large spoon into the mixture, which looked a bit runny to her, and filled the bowls to the rim.

She carried hers and James' bowl into the living room, where James was sitting, blanket still curled around him. The feline followed for company.  
"James, I made the soup."

His faded green eyes looked at her. "Dank you. You made it by yourselb?"

"Well, Meowth helped me."

She sat down next to him as he lifted the spoon full of soup to his lips. One sip, and then he looked inquisitivly at the bowl. "Ids not bad. Ids kinda runndy, dough."

"I thought so, too." She scooped a piece of tomato off of the surface and put it in her mouth.

"Ids still really good, Jess. Dank you so much."

"You're welcome, James."

The feline held his small portion in his paws for a while. The two humans continued to eat the vegetables that floated around in the warm broth. It was hard to concentrate on the thin, soupy mixture; for some reason all he could picture in front of him was fading to pure white.


End file.
